


Do Starve?

by arminda



Category: Don't Starve (Video Game)
Genre: Food Kink, Kink, Stuffing, also theres like little to no dialogue, sue me, whoops my bad
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-07-24
Updated: 2015-07-24
Packaged: 2018-04-10 22:32:57
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,089
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4410338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/arminda/pseuds/arminda
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>As of late, Wilson wasn’t faring so well. Granted he wasn’t dead yet, but he found himself almost constantly hungry and weak. Lately all he could find were a few carrots here and there, and maybe a berry bush that wasn’t picked clean. It was almost as if the world was intentionally screwing him over. He couldn’t find a good supply of food anywhere!</p><p>--<br/>In which Wilson finally gets a good meal.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Do Starve?

As of late, Wilson wasn’t faring so well. Granted he wasn’t dead yet, but he found himself almost constantly hungry and weak. Lately all he could find were a few carrots here and there, and maybe a berry bush that wasn’t picked clean. It was almost as if the world was intentionally screwing him over. He couldn’t find a good supply of food anywhere! Wilson grumbled under his breath and squatted by his campfire, tossing a log into the flames. At least he had some weapons, and enough wood. 

It looked like he would have to make it through the night without food, yet again. At least he had the light of the fire to keep him sane. Who knows what creatures lurked in the dark, waiting to take a stab at his frail body. He sighed and placed a hand on his stomach in attempts to sooth it when he heard it rumble softly. When he lived peacefully in his world, he enjoyed regular meals, and slept soundly in his bed without a lingering fear of the unknown. His body still wasn’t used to the dramatic change, and Wilson desperately tried to cope with the situation. He was relatively thin, if not a tad bit soft around the midsection from living comfortably in the past. It’s barely noticeable now, as he has so little to eat in the present. 

Wilson placed another log gingerly in the campfire and lay down, looking at the black void of night. He rubbed his eyes and blinked slowly. “I’ll only close my eyes for a few seconds…” he muttered. “Just to rest my eyes…” He placed one hand behind his head and one on his stomach and slowly drifted into slumber. 

Before he knew it, it was morning. He shielding his eyes from the light and sat upright. He stood up and brushed himself off, picking up his backpack and spear. His stomach ungraciously reminded him of his hunger and he wrapped an arm around his midsection. He had to find food or risk passing out in some godforsaken place. He mentally prepared himself for the day ahead and went on his way, occasionally picking up some flint and chopping down some trees. 

Eventually the sleep deprivation, starvation and physical exertion started to get to him, and he took a breather on a nearby rock, hunched over, resting his chin on his hand. He saw something dart quickly across the grass only a few feet away. He straightened his back and squinted. 

“A rabbit!” He could almost feel himself drooling. “There’s got to be a hole nearby…” He cautiously stood up and looked around. Sure enough, he saw the rabbit jump quickly into a hole as soon as it caught sight of him. Wilson could feel the tears well up slightly in his eyes, and he grinned widely. It was almost too good to be true! And where there was one rabbit, there was most certainly many more. He quickly shrugged off his backpack and fashioned several traps, which he carefully placed around the area. 

He would come back to check them before nightfall. There was a chance he wouldn’t go hungry that night, and it gave him hope. That ol’ Maxwell can’t laugh at him anymore! He would have a feast of rabbit tonight! That is, if he caught any. 

And the day just kept getting better! Not far from the rabbit holes were some bushes, loaded with berries. He quickly grabbed at them and shoved a handful into his mouth, savoring the juicy taste. He gained some energy, but his stomach still yearned for more. He’d save the rest for dinner, he thought, and packed the others away in his backpack. He ventured a little further out from the bushes, and discovered a small herd of beefalo. Thankfully, they weren’t particularly active and instead, waddled lazily around the patch of grass. 

Did he dare? Did he dare lure one out from the rest of the herd? His day was going so well already, he didn’t particularly want to ruin it. But yet, they were so tempting. He could taste the cooked meat already, and he felt his belly lurch. The berries he ate earlier were hardly enough to fill his stomach in the least. He was motivated solely by his appetite at this point, and it seems as though it had already made up its mind. It wanted that beefalo. Wilson could feel the excitement welling up inside him. It was a wicked thing to do, killing a beefalo. He had only done it a few times, and he felt slightly guilty each time. 

“It’s for my survival!” He would always tell himself. “I can’t help the fact that I need to eat.” 

This time was no different. He took a deep breath and readied his spear. He would have to be quick, and steady on his feet. He tiptoed closer to the herd and picked out the one he would take down. Suddenly, in a blind rage, Wilson charged at the beefalo and struck it. He ran as fast as his legs would carry him, with the aggravated beefalo and herd on his heels. The herd eventually gave up chase, but the injured beefalo pursued. Overcome by adrenaline, Wilson stood his ground and struck again, causing the animal to wobble slightly. It was bleeding heavily now, and Wilson circled around, attacking when he saw an opening. Finally, the beefalo went down, and Wilson fell to his knees, exhausted. 

He wiped his brow and looked at the slain creature. Now came the dirty work. He didn’t particularly like this part. Gentlemen shouldn’t partake in this behavior! It wasn’t technically his fault, as he was put in this survival situation to begin with. And so, the painstaking task of cleaning the beefalo and dividing up into sections began. Finally, the carcass was a bunch of raw meat, ready to be cooked. Wilson looked up at the sky; he still had an hour or so of daylight left, just enough to set up his crockpot and build a campfire. 

He packed up his meat, and set it in his pack, wrapping it with some leaves. He covered the remains with some dirt and left to check his traps. Surely some animal might’ve wandered into them and gotten caught by now! He felt his stomach rumble yet again, and he sighed, quickening his pace. He was starting to get slightly annoyed as he felt his body shutting down. He could hold out a little longer for goodness sakes! 

Wilson saw the traps by the large rock move slightly and his heart lifted. So he had caught something after all! He wondered how many he had caught, and what he would cook. His mind raced with the possibilities. He had found a bit of honey on the way, and struggled with not eating it on the journey back. He leaned his pack against the rock, and snuck over to the traps. Picking up the trap gingerly, he readied his weapon. He grabbed the rabbit tightly and murdered it. He sighed lightly and cleaned up the meat. He repeated this process until he had cleaned out all the traps. 

The light was beginning to fade, and he winced. Quickly setting up his pot and campfire, he took out all of his food and lay it out in front of him. “There is absolutely no way I could eat all of this!” He muttered. “I might as well just cook it all so it doesn’t spoil.” He grinned. He almost doubted what he had just said. He was starving, and it seemed to him that he was underestimating his stomach’s limits. Wilson picked up the pot, and proceeded to create a stew with various chunks of meat. He was tickled pink at the interesting flavor the blends of meat would create. He threw in a couple of berries for kicks. He stirred the pot occasionally and looked at the leftover meat, which would be cooked and glazed with honey. 

The antagonizing wait was finally over, and he had successfully finished cooking his feast. His stomach groaned longingly and Wilson shushed it. He situated himself comfortably against the rock and took the food off the fire. It smelled divine, and he grinned maniacally. There was no time for gentlemanly manners now, and he had found himself without proper silverware. He figured he would start with the honey ham, and wash it down with some stew in the process. 

He lunged for the warm meat ravenously and took a giant bite, filling his cheeks. He took another bite, hardly stopping to chew his food properly. Wilson moaned with delight as he ate, unable to control his emotions. It had been so long since he had a proper meal, and he ate so quickly he feared he would choke. Picking the bone clean, he tossed it to the side, and took a large swig of the stew. He shivered as he felt his body warm up instantly with each swallow. He grasped another hunk of meat, and continued eating, still as hungry as ever. 

Had it really been that long since he had a proper meal? The days were blurring, and he could hardly keep track of how long he had been in this insane world. In reality, it wasn’t long as long as he thought it was. Tonight made up for all the horrible nights he tried to sleep despite his hunger. Wilson savored what he had, and ate quickly, in case something should jump out from behind a stump and attack him. 

The sun had started to set, and the moon was rising. Wilson was more than halfway done with his stew at this point, and still had another hunk of honey glazed meat or so to finish off. He had eaten so quickly, that his body did not register that he was starting to get full. He could feel his waistcoat tightening, and his pants were starting to become uncomfortable around his midsection. His thin stomach was rounding out, but Wilson hardly noticed. The meal was so divine that he could hardly stop eating; only stopping to take a swig of soup. All the food he had eaten was starting to make him feel incredibly sleepy, and he ate with a much slower pace than before. He tossed aside another bone, and started working on the last piece of meat. His belly was starting to hurt now, unaccustomed to having all this food inside at one time, but he pressed on, determined to finish. In hindsight, it might’ve been best to leave some food for the next day, but at the rate he was going, Wilson figured he wouldn’t have the need to eat for the next week. 

Halfway through the final piece of meat, he shifted in his seat, releasing some of the pressure in his stomach with a small burp. He blushed slightly and sunk lower against the rock happily. All the meat was soon stripped off, and Wilson placed that bone with the others. He downed the rest of the stew, chewing the meat and berries slowly. His stomach informed him that he was incredibly over-full, and Wilson yawned heavily. He placed one hand gingerly on his tight waistcoat and was astonished at how much it had rounded out. He unbuttoned a couple buttons and rubbed his bloated stomach gently as it gurgled uncomfortably, slightly embarrassed at how far he let himself get carried away. He was thin, and you could see his ribs on occasion. Now, having eaten to his heart’s content, his stomach seemed even larger compared to his frail body. At least there was nobody around to witness him in this undignified state. 

He unbuttoned his pants as well, and placed some more logs on the campfire. It was dark now, and the last thing Wilson needed was for his light source to go out. He was in absolutely no shape to be running around in the black of night with some crazed beast on his heels. The warmth of the fire coupled with the feeling of being stuffed to the brim with food made him incredibly sleepy. He was overcome by the food coma he had put himself into, and yawned some more. He smiled happily, for once, completely content. Wilson soon found himself drifting off into a deep sleep. He snored quietly, and some drool dribbled slightly out of the side of his mouth. 

Who’s starving now, Maxwell?

**Author's Note:**

> i wrote this last year but only managed to bring up the courage to post it now. 
> 
> fIGHT ME 
> 
> the game was askin for it, 
> 
> hope you liked it though! 
> 
> This was my first stuffing fic okay breh   
> whispers  
> tell me if i should write more ---


End file.
